


Nothing Matters When We're Dancing

by thornclaw



Series: Lark Trevelyan [3]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Fluff, The Winter Palace (Dragon Age)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-02
Updated: 2020-04-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:00:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23442085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thornclaw/pseuds/thornclaw
Summary: Just a re-imagining of the ending romance scene of Wicked Eyes and Wicked Hearts. There's not nearly enough Iron Bull fluff, I felt a moral responsibility to work towards mending that. Feat. my Inquisitor, Lark Trevelyan.
Relationships: Iron Bull/Female Trevelyan
Series: Lark Trevelyan [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1909447
Comments: 2
Kudos: 26





	Nothing Matters When We're Dancing

Lark puffed out a heavy breath, leaning against the railing of one of the innumerable balconies at Halamshiral. She winced as the movement jarred her right shoulder. _Not dislocated, but definitely something to bring to the infirmary. Damn that bitch Florianne and her harlequins_.

She brushed her fingers through her bedraggled hair; Josephine had carefully plaited her honey blonde waves into a crown for the ball, though by now Lark looked rather like she had fallen into a bramble bush (admittedly not too far from the truth; fighting in the gardens was more trouble than just enemy blades. Sera had been sworn to secrecy after helping detangle her).

“Oh, fuck it.” Lark gave up trying to make herself look presentable and sighed. “I saved the damn empress; they can forgive one bad hair day.”

“I don’t know, these Orlesians may execute you for it. I’m sure a sloppy hairstyle at a party counts as terrorism.”

Lark grinned at the deep voice and turned around, tilting her chin up to look at the Iron Bull. “Bull, you have no idea. I tore my gown and I thought Josephine and Leliana would hire the Tevinters to figure out a way to use my own Anchor against me.” She stepped towards him and rested her forehead against his chest, then jerked back. “Perhaps the strangest part of the night is your torso being clothed. It’s oddly unsettling.”

He laughed, the sound of it echoing on the small balcony as he leaned on his elbow on the rail. “You think you have it rough? You got to dance with an insane woman, and all night long I’ve had to listen to these assholes complain and gossip.”

“Ooh, anything about us? 'Ze Iron Bull! Iz it true you have bedded ze Inquisitor? Is she as _ravenous_ as she seems on ze battlefield?’”

Bull straightened and placed a hand on her waist, drawing her closer against him. “I wish it was that fun. All this backhanded crap is exhausting, just some rich dick trying to kill another rich dick for making fun of his hat.” He paused as Lark’s grin faded, her mouth twisting. “Is everything alright, kadan?”

Lark rested a hand on his cheek, ignoring the tears pricking her eyes as she looked at him. “I know it’s silly, but a part of me was looking forward to the ball; this used to be my life, all the dresses and pretension—and I loved it. Dancing and falling in love with a handsome suitor at the Winter Palace was my dream when I was little. I almost wish I was just another one of those nobles in there.” Her cheeks burned at her confession and she looked away. _He’ll think I’m acting like a pampered child, crying because she isn’t the prettiest girl at the ball_. She spoke quickly, “I don’t regret becoming the Inquisitor, it’s just…different. I mean, for once I would love a night where no one dies or commits treason. I didn’t mean—”

She broke off as Bull extended his arm. “Come on, the music’s finally got enough of a beat to dance to.” She hesitated, surprised, and his voice softened. “I know what it feels like to miss what you were, even if you don’t regret changing. Besides, I doubt those handsome suitors you imagined could break that four-poster bed Josephine had to replace. Now, did you want to piss off some Orlesian assholes?”

“Of course, kadan.”


End file.
